


Control

by schwertlilie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Casual Sex, Countries Using Human Names, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were almost comfortable between them - pancake breakfasts and nights watching TV - until Gilbert asks where Matthew's badass side went. Matt demonstrates that his badass side <i>isn't</i> gone, and things get a different kind of comfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://schwertlilie.dreamwidth.org/3324.html), January 2010, also making this one of my earlier forays into Hetalia fandom in general and PruCan in particular. 
> 
> To everyone that commented on/kudos'd Apfel, holy crap and thank you - I'd forgotten how intense (and awesome) the PruCan end of fandom is. :D I hope this also makes you smile.

Thursday nights were almost becoming a habit: Gilbert would arrive at Matthew's house, Matthew would cook him dinner, Gilbert would help with the dishes. From there the routine varied - sometimes they'd sprawl on the couch and watch TV, or get drunk; or Kumajiro would beg for pats and Gilbert would groom him. Usually Gilbert crashed on the couch; if he wasn't gone by morning, Matthew would wake up to a breakfast of pancakes and syrup.

Matthew was drying the dishes - they'd had (maple) plank salmon for dinner - when Gilbert opened his mouth.

"What happened to you?"

"Hmm?"

"You. You used to be badass."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Matthew smiled, with that quirk of his mouth that'd be adorable if it wasn't so irritating.

"Your name made my soldiers prepare for the worst. Netherlands' royal family sends you tulips every year for the 'Canadian summer' in World War II. Hell, Belgium still calls the last chunk of World War I _your_ Hundred Days. Now you're invisible at world meetings and your own brother never hesitates to talk about how he's awesomer than you! The hell is up with that?"

"You're saying I should be running the world?" The little bastard's eyes were _twinkling_ , couldn't he see he was serious?

Gilbert growled. "I'm saying you should be making the world respect you again. Go invade Turkey or something."

"There are more ways to get respect than fighting, Gilbert." Matthew put down the plate. "I - and my people - prefer non-violent ones these days. Besides, there are benefits to being out of the spotlight."

He tried to loom over Matthew, who seemed unbothered by his sudden lack of personal space. Probably came from spending part of his childhood with Francis. "Like what."

"Like not being first on terrorist hit lists, or having everyone look too closely at my domestic policy." He shrugged. "It works for us."

"But it doesn't. Make. Sense." He advanced on the blond, who backed into the wall, amused expression never faltering. "You're letting them walk all over you."

Matthew snorted. "Since when have I changed my mind based on _international_ pressure? I still hunt seals, among other things."

"But-" He punched the wall beside Matt's head, who didn't flinch. Bastard. "It's like you gave up a part of you. Like it's gone."

Something in Matt's expression shifted. "It's not gone. Just.. sleeping."

He planted his hands on either side of Matt's head, leaned in. "Really now. Looks pretty gone to me."

A little more teeth to the smile. "You want to see it?"

"If there's anything left." He smirked.

Matthew just smiled, ran his fingers gently up the back of Gilbert's neck; then he grabbed a handful of hair and _pulled_ him down into a kiss that was more teeth than lips.

_Fuck_ the kid was good, the bites just this side of pain. Gilbert groaned, ignored that Matthew was probably a virgin, and fought back, pinning Matt's hands above his head. When they separated for air, Gilbert cocked his head. "I dunno, kiddo," he said, trying to ignore how breathy his voice was. "It seemed awful small, and I didn't get a good look. Care to try again?"

Matt growled and attacked Gilbert's ear, alternating nibbles and licks; if Gilbert wasn't so turned on, he'd have thought the sound was cute, like a puppy with a shoe he wanted to gnaw on. But, that was enough of Matt thinking he was in charge here. He transferred both of Matt's wrists to his left hand, and used his right to tip Matt's head back, exposing his neck. He took his time, blowing on the skin to feel Matt squirm against him, little licks and bites, until starting in on a vicious hickey. He could feel Matt swallow, the little noises he tried to hold back, and bit harder.

Matt shuddered, then hit Gilbert with his hip, pushing him far enough away to twist around, switching their positions. Gilbert grinned when his head bumped the wall - not bad for a guy who still had his hands restrained. He rolled his pelvis, and Gilbert hissed as Matt's erection rubbed against his. Matt laughed, brokenly, and Gilbert leered. "You really think you can take on the great Gilbert?"

"You're the one who wanted to wake up the bogeyman."

He needed to wipe that detachedly-cocky expression off the brat's face. Oh wait, free hand! Which he wormed down the front of Matt's jeans, of course. Matt bucked into his hand, especially when he swiped his thumb across the head of his dick. "Not so aloof now, huh princess?"

"Been a while.. since someone seriously bit me. Don't always want sunshine and rainbows, eh?"

Gilbert blinked. Was the kid...?

"... You didn't think I was a virgin, did you?"

"Of- Of course not! Francis wouldn't have let a nice ass like yours get away without sampling first."

Matt half-smiled - a little bitterly? Nah. "Every fucking time..."

Enough of that. A few strokes of Matt's dick and he was arching into his hand; a few more, and he closed his eyes, panting softly. Secure in success, Gilbert loosened his grip on Matt's wrists to re-adjust.

Which was a mistake, because Matt ripped his hands free and pinned Gilbert's shoulders back against the wall. "What do you want?" he murmured into his jaw.

Just like always, Gilbert's mouth was a step ahead of his brain. "You."

"Really? How?"

"I- You-" Matt rocked his hips into Gilbert's, maddeningly slowly. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Fuck me." Fine. He'd said it.

He kissed the corner of Gilbert's mouth, then pulled back. "C'mon," he said, his hand slipping to the waist of Gilbert's pants and tugging him along.

And God help him, he did, pulling off his shirt and Matt's as they went. They stopped in the living room, in front of the fire, and the rest of their clothes were dropped on the floor. Gilbert refused to be impressed at the size of Matt's dick or that he'd kept his glasses on, but let himself be pushed down onto the rug. "How rustic."

Matt quirked his mouth. "Thank you."

He raked his fingernails down Matt's chest; the other nation shuddered. "Damn straight."

Matt just tugged Gilbert's head back and set to work on his throat, his collarbone, his shoulders, alternating bites and nibbles. Gil's hands wandered Matt's back, scratching and smoothing, and down to his hips. He pulled them flush together; Matt groaned.

"There's fucking to get to, remember?"

Again with the damned mouth quirk. Instead of answering, Matt dug into the coffee table for some lube and a condom, and slid down Gilbert's body. He watched Matt pour lube on his fingers, then turn his head to lick the tip of Gilbert's cock, to take the head into his mouth. He was aware of the finger circling his entrance, and the pain as it pushed inside, but Matt's mouth was fascinating. And distracting. The brat looked so innocent, but there he was, sucking dick like he'd had practice, inserting a second finger and doing _something_ that reminded him of Francis and made his hips buck upwards and the kid choke. Not so practiced, then? He grinned, and Matt made an irritated noise as he scissored his fingers, pulled his mouth away to nuzzle Gilbert's balls before licking up his erection, base to tip, base to tip. Then he hit his prostate and Gilbert mewled, grinding down on Matt's fingers - when had he added a third? - and tried to forget how unawesome he sounded.

"God _damn_ it, Matt."

Matt ripped open the condom package with his teeth and rolled it on one-handed, continuing to slide his fingers in and out of Gilbert's ass. "I thought a God-fearing man like you would remember that patience is a virtue?"

"Fuck patience. Now."

Matt hummed a note as he wiped his fingers on his discarded pants, poured extra lube onto his dick, and pulled Gilbert upright and into his lap. Gilbert got the hint and straddled Matt's legs. He batted away Matt's hand and positioned himself, guided himself down onto Matt's cock. And.. it hurt, because no amount of stretching could really prepare someone for shoving things up their ass, but Matt waited just long enough before starting short, shallow thrusts. Bastard knew this part, at least. As the pain faded he tried to push down further, deeper, but Matt kept himself to those unsatisfying strokes.

Just as he opened his mouth, Matt smirked and slammed his hips up, hitting _that spot_ , and Gilbert moaned. Two more deep thrusts, then another bulls-eye on his prostate.

"I'm sorry, were you about to say something?"

Bastard wasn't sorry at all. Gilbert growled and pushed Matt back against the rug, teeth worrying his lower lip as he rode him. Matt chuckled into his mouth, and made a game of hitting Gilbert's prostate on a random number of thrusts. Gilbert bit his way down Matt's neck, along his collarbone, and hissed at another just-missed thrust. "Stop dicking around and fuck me, asshole."

"As you like." He felt Matt shift beneath him, then daaaamn, that was better. Matt's nails scratched up and down his back as he aimed deeper and harder and more accurately, until Gilbert has to muffle his moans in Matt's shoulder. He was vaguely aware of switching to words instead of noises, _more_ and _yes_ and _don't you dare fucking stop_ but he didn't care because _sogood_ and Matt's murmuring in his ear, mixed bits of French and English and German all tumbling together as he reached between their bodies and grabbed hold of Gilbert's erection. One.. two.. and he tasted blood as his world went white.

When he started thinking again, he was aware of Matt wiping him off with a warm facecloth, hands gentle on his oversensitive dick. The cloth moved to his stomach, then back down to his ass. He cracked an eye and Matt smiled at him, then turned his attention back to the cloth. He's reminded of Ivan, a bit, that weird mix of gentleness and dominance. But where Ivan just barrelled through where ever he felt like, Matt found the line and danced on it. Whatever, it was hot.

He licked his lips and tasted copper. He blinked, then his eyes moved to Matt, trying to find- There, on his shoulder, a bite mark half-hidden by his hair.

Matt noticed his line of sight and shrugged. "I told you, I've had too much happiness and unicorn sex lately. Don't worry about it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Unicorns?"

Matt made a face. "Arthur. Just because I can't see them doesn't mean he won't drag me off on one."

Gilbert snorted - who the hell believed in unicorns these days? - and watched Matt drop the face cloth on their clothes. The condom was gone, but he was still hard, bobbing slightly when he moved. No matter what Roderich said, he had manners (when he chose to use them), and manners demanded he not nap until his partner was taken care of, so...

"You missed a spot," he said, moving onto his knees. "Want me to clean it up?"

He raised an eyebrow but nodded, so Gilbert crawled forward and licked at the semen spattered on Matt's stomach, and grinned when the other nation shivered. He was more thorough than strictly necessary, and kissed his way up Matt's body, licking Matt's lower lip at the same time he closed his hand around his erection. Matt _whimpered_ , higher and needier than Gilbert'd ever heard from him; and kissed Gilbert hard, his tongue sweeping across Gilbert's as if to memorize the taste. In-ter-est-ing, there was a way to wipe that damned smile off the bastard's face after all.

"On your knees," he whispered against Matt's mouth.

Matt obeyed, and Gilbert kissed him again, hand moving gently on his cock. He lowered his mouth to the bite mark, washed it with his tongue while the other nation squirmed. Matt was right, it wasn't deep.

"It's not going to scar," Matt mumbled, voice distracted.

"We could make it scar."

A choked breath, and Gilbert smirked against his shoulder. Veeery interesting.

"Al'd kill you."

"He could try." He slid back down, onto his hands and knees, and tongued the head of Matt's cock. A groan, and he looked up to make sure Matt was watching at him, holding eye contact as he took each inch into his mouth. Another shudder, and Matt threaded his fingers through Gilbert's hair. Gilbert swallowed Matt's cock down his throat until his lips brushed hair, where he stopped and looked up at the brat expectantly.

The expression on his face was priceless, arousal mixed with a hint of uncertainty, until he clued in that Gilbert wasn't going to do all the work by himself, damn it, and that smile was back on his face. His fingers tightened, enough to warn but not enough to hurt, and he started to fuck Gilbert's mouth. Too slow: Gilbert wasn't made of fucking porcelain, so he made an impatient noise when Matt pulled backwards. Who groaned, his hips snapping forward; he got the hint, though, and sped up. Gilbert rewarded him with the barest scrape of teeth.

Matt gasped, his grip on Gilbert's hair just short of pain. Gilbert simply aligned his throat and jaw, head tilted back, making impatient noises when he had enough air and Matt looked like he might slow down. He had a good view of Matt's face, the smile faltering as he got closer to orgasm, his head falling back. His movements lost rhythm, his stray curl bobbing along, but when he made eye contact with Gilbert he lost it, hands locking tight as he tried to pull out. "Gil-" he started in warning.

Hey now, none of that. Gilbert growled around Matt's cock, who moaned something like "Gilbert" when he came, and swallowed it all. Matt went boneless, his death grip on Gilbert's hair the only thing keeping him upright, until Gilbert moved up onto his knees and leaned the Canadian against his chest. Matt's breath gradually evened out; when Gilbert thought he'd be able to stand without being carried, he poked his side. "You got a bed around here or what?"

"Maple?"

"B-e-d, bed."

"Oh, right." Matt pushed himself to his feet, wobbled a bit as he walked from the living room. "This way."

Gilbert followed, admiring the view as Matthew lead him into the hallway, the bedroom. He was pleased to see that the bed was a king, and less than pleased to see Kumajiro sprawled over half of it. "What's he doing here?"

Matt paused, half-way into the bed. "Where else would he sleep?"

"A spare room, or something?"

He blinked, then shrugged. "Too late tonight. C'mon." He held up the blanket for Gilbert, who admitted (temporary) defeat and climbed in with him.

Matt was asleep first, but Gilbert wasn't far behind, plotting how to get the bear out of the bed and how best to get Francis to freak out over Matt sporting Gilbert's teeth marks. And if they moved closer through the night, and woke up with Gilbert pillowed on Matt's chest, well, it was just because Kumajiro took up too much of the bed and they didn't have enough room to themselves. Really.

**Author's Note:**

> In the beginning, Gilbert talked about:  
> 1) Canadians were used as shock troops in WWI; if the Germans heard that the Canadians were being moved into a position, the Germans prepared for an attack.  
> 2) Netherlands + Canada = [BFFs since the 1940s](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netherlands#Second_World_War).  
> 3) [Canada's Hundred Days](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canada%27s_Hundred_Days) was an offensive from Aug 8th - Nov 11th, 1918, where the Allies suckerpunched the Germans and advanced across the Western front. Most of the English-speaking world just calls it the "[Hundred Days](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundred_Days_Offensive)," but France & Belgium (especially where the Canadians actually fought) call it "Canada's Hundred Days."
> 
> "Go invade Turkey" is a throw-away reference to a meme fill where Canada invades Turkey, and everyone just believes that he got lost, or wanted to get away from the snow for a while. ([Here.](http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/3274.html?thread=3720650#t3720650)) It was fresh at the time?


End file.
